Chasing Fairy Tales
by Delgodess
Summary: She had escaped from him once. She could do it again. Azog the Defiler and Oc. Movie Based.
1. Dream Not

**Disclaimer: The Hobbit and all its ****characters, belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.**

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How was it that she always got herself into these situations?

The young woman ran as fast as her feet could carry her, faster than she had ever run in the whole of her eighteen years of existence, and still it was not enough.

She could hear the howls of the wargs behind her, the sound like wet, hot breath on her neck. She found that to be more than enough incentive to lengthen her already impossible stride, stumbling her way through this ridiculous forest as if Death were at her heels.

Death in the form of slobbery, flee infested mongrels and their hideous masters.

Go on ahead, she had said.

She just needed a rest, she said.

Stupidity, plain and simple.

As if _she_, the girl from nowhere, with no name and idea where she was, could _possibly_ look after herself.

A low lying branch scratched her face, the sting of it making water come to her eyes.

Even that tiny fellow, what was his name? Willio, Bongo, Bilbo…yes! That's it! Even Bilbo knew more about fighting than she did! And that's saying something! She could hold a sword, her form horrible, palm sweaty and grip looser than a drunk at New Years, but at least she could hold it.

The girl stumbled, frizzy curls flying into her face and sticking to her mouth. She caught herself before she could fall, spitting her hair out spitefully and dragging herself up over a huge bolder. Her clothing caught on the jagged rock and this time, she really _did_ fall. Pine needles poked at her face, the sharp ends leaving imprints on her soft flesh.

The girl scrambled to her feet, bright eyes moving frantically before locking on a nearby tree. Her gaze shot up, taking in the old oak and its sturdy branches before bolting towards it.

An arrow whizzed past her, its inky blackness sinking deeply into the tree with a solid _thunk._

She ran partially up the trunk, dirty fingernails clawing at the bark before jumping for the arrow and using its thick length as a springboard to leap to the lowest branch, a good twenty feet off the ground. It splintered as she leapt, shattering under the pressure of her moving body.

The girl reached for the branch, stretching out her arms and grasping it with strength she didn't know she had. Below her there was a low growl, the sound raising the hair on the back of her neck and making her insides clench. Scrabbling paws and harsh barks, the noises too loud for her ears, rang out in the silent woods.

She didn't look down, instead pushing herself to climb higher, to use her scraped and bleeding hands as levers and _move_.

It didn't matter where, it didn't matter how, just _move_.

She hoped the others had made it. That the strange Brown Wizard had been able to lead the Orc Hunters away.

The girl held on to the trunk at the top of the old oak as tightly as she could, pressing her face into the rough bark as she tried to hold back tears.

Oh, she was so _scared_.

She had never been so terrified in her entire _life._

Why had she said that she would be fine? She was going to _die_, and it was all because she had wanted to take in the damn scenery. She had faked it, saying that she had twisted an ankle and she just needed a few minutes.

And that's all it took.

Minutes to hear the Warg Hunters, minutes to get separated and minutes to run.

She could hear the Orc's laughter, their cat calls, as they urged their enormous hounds to shred the tree to pieces.

The girl clenched her jaw, fighting desperately to ignore the way the leaves were falling on her as the tree shook with each pounding collision of the beasts.

A warg howled and she flinched, gnawing at her bottom lip to stop from crying out. There was more laughter, laughter at her because they could _see_ that she was afraid and they freak'in _liked_ it.

Then suddenly it stopped.

All the howling, the snarls, the laughter.

The dogs stopped running at the tree and she thought that maybe,_ maybe_, they had _left_.

The girl pulled her face away from its hiding place, carefully peeking around the tree's edge and looking out into the silence.

She shouldn't have.

Because the moment she did, she locked gazes with blue eyes that _burned_.

Pale skin and tribal scars atop that white, _white_ warg, staring at her, _defiling her_, with his eyes.

And something inside her cowered because _oh my god, oh my god, oh my god_, she_ knew_ him, _she knew him_, and it wasn't _possible_.

It _couldn't_ be possible.

This _world_ was impossible.

And that's when she _knew_, _**this wasn't a dream.**_

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**AN: I just watched The Hobbit and I don't know about everyone else, but the Orc Chieftain, Azog...wheew. I can't even adequately describe it. The way they portrayed him is stunning. I mean, he is beautiful, in a dark kind of way. So I figured I'd write something and see how it worked out. How'd I do?**

**Review Please!**

**~Delgodess**


	2. Cruelty

She couldn't remember how they'd gotten her down, but if the pain from her torn fingernails was anything to go by, they'd ripped her from the tree quite forcefully.

She felt the bite of splintered bark in her arms along with a bruise running down her left hip, one that she knew would be an ugly yellow-purple if she lifted her shirt to look.

Her mouth tasted of blood, hers, probably.

She must have bitten her tongue.

The young woman shifted, groaning quietly at the sharp pain that pierced her skull and nearly whimpering when a large weight was placed on her. It covered her chest and upper abdomen, exerting steady, firm, pressure.

The girl pried her eyes open, squinting through crusted eye gunk and blood. Rough, white bristles greeted her and it took her a moment to realize what she was seeing.

Fur.

Dog fur.

Warg fur, if she wanted to be exact.

The girl slowly tilted her head down, her curls shifting in the gravel. Her eyes focused on the weight pressing into her, a lump forming in the back of her throat as the moonlight illuminated the sight of a giant paw. She followed it up, trailing along a lean leg and noticing with growing anxiousness how the white fur seemed to stretch endlessly next to her, the creature encasing her lower body in the flesh between its chest and its elbow.

She dropped her head down with a thud, whimpering inwardly at the undue pain she had just caused herself and stilling instinctively when the top of her skull brushed against something. She angled her neck to the side, taking in another long, furry leg, its thick fur lightly stained red.

The girl gulped, choosing to think that it was just dirt.

She lay sprawled uncomfortably on a cold rock, upper body placed directly between the forepaws of a gigantic, white warg.

Her sight wandered up the broad chest, past the thick neck to a lean snout, lips pulled back slightly over ivory teeth as its hot breath misted into the cold night air.

The girl blinked, surprised.

Somehow, she had been expecting a more feline face, square-jawed and stubby nosed, like a hyena. Instead, the animal's features were elongated, all sharp points and angles. It was a wolf's face.

A predator's face.

She shivered and the beast's ears perked, lowering its great head to look at her. Its gleaming eyes caught hers, the intelligence in them frightening.

The girl tried to distance herself, lifting her body to scoot away but froze when a low growl emanated from the behemoth. She could feel the sound rumble through its powerful chest, vibrating against her stomach where they touched. She had kept eye contact through the entire exchange, but flinched and looked away when it bared its long fangs at her.

It huffed, leaning its shaggy head closer and dragging its wet nose across the hollow of her neck. She felt her muscles stiffening and pressed herself farther into the hard rock in an attempt to stay still. Its mouth opened, foul breath rolling out onto her face and huge tongue lolling as it's gaping jaws clamped down on her flesh, firmly encircling her shoulder.

The girl swallowed back a yelp, breathing shallow and eyes clenched tightly shut. The warg increased its pressure briefly before snorting, causing dust to fly up around her hair, and releasing her almost contemptibly.

She relaxed when he moved his face away, the air escaping her in a silent sigh and peeked at him through her dirty eyelashes. His attention was elsewhere, keen eyes staring out into the darkness.

He growled suddenly, the sound like a warning in the night and she jumped. His paw dug into her, sharp nails pricking through her thin clothing, the only acknowledgement of her movement as he continued his vigil. It soon became apparent what had captured his interest, if the sound of scrabbling feet and moving armor was any indication.

The girl craned her neck up, wincing when the sore skin of her scalp burned.

Did someone pick her up by her _hair_?

Her upper lip twitched into a snarl at the thought, vowing to chop it _all_ off at the first opportunity.

"Sire…"

The girl's head jerked up, ignoring the pain the abrupt movement caused her and staring at the wretched creatures in front of her.

They were… in a word…hideous. Exactly what she would expect of an Orc. One of them even had _fur_ growing from the side of his face.

She watched as the farther one stepped forward, fresh blood trailing down a leg from an open wound at his side. A warg moved closer, showing too much interest and the orc snapped at it, raising his clawed fingers to ward it off before pressing the same hand to his side, attempting to stem the flow of liquid. He wheezed, calling out a second time.

"Sire…the Elves…" He grit out.

His yellowed eyes gazed desperately across the open space and for the first time, the girl noticed that they were in a courtyard of stone. A closer inspection of the weathered pillars dotting the ground showed that it had long since fallen to ruin. The girl and her canine guard sat atop a rock, presumably one that had been part of a wall.

The young woman twisted her head to the right, trying to see what the orc was looking at, and then reared back in shock, heedless of the warning grumble her keeper sent her.

Her ears heard more growling words from the wounded orc, but her mind and sight were completely consumed by the presence yards from her immobile body.

There, silhouetted against the moonlight was the deathly white form of her capturer. His broad back faced them as he scanned the darkened horizon, tremendous stature imposing even from this distance.

How could she have missed him?

His arms swayed as he turned, the fickle shadows swallowing up the weapon held in his large hand. He moved with dangerous grace, footfalls nearly silent as his large form prowled closer. The orc was babbling now, rasping vowels harsh and bright eyes flickering fearfully.

The pale orc stopped feet from them and the small orc trembled when his leader's mouth opened, revealing jagged fangs. His voice rolled over the girl, gravelly tones echoing clearly in the silent courtyard.

There was a loud sound, like a blade going through flesh, and suddenly the wounded orc was dangling in the air, body impaled on a spiked weapon that wasn't _held_ in her capturers hand; it _was_ his hand.

He threw the smaller orc from him, face twisted in fury as its body skidded to a halt on the opposite side of the clearing. The wargs were on him in a flash, vicious snarls and barks suddenly emitting from their throats as all but her guard fought over their meal. The dying orc screamed as he was eaten alive, voice rising shrilly before it was abruptly cut off.

She could smell the blood from where she lay and tensed when another sound broke out among the ripping and snapping of tissue.

The huge orc, the leader, was _laughing_, his head thrown back as he watched the gruesome scene with cold eyes.

The jarring sight brought her back to her senses and she struggled to tear her eyes away from the squabbling wolves, horrified.

The girl felt terror spike within her, the same hopeless denial as before crying out in her thoughts.

Suddenly, everything that had just happened was _that_ _much_ more real.

The crimson rivers on the ancient cobblestones were once from a living being that only just recently had been begging for his life. Giant paws slipped in them, and one of the wargs howled in victory, making off with what looked like a clawed hand.

The girl could feel bile rising in her throat and she violently pulled her gaze way, settling instead on the now silent chieftain.

She must have made a noise, for in that moment the _monster_ turned to look at her.

His pale eyes bit into hers, lips twitching into a wicked smile.

She thought it cruel that her heart fluttered at the sight.

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**AN: Well, here you go. Another chapter. Please Review. It seriously takes, like, five minutes. I **_**really**_** would like feedback on this one.**

**Review Please!**

**~Delgodess**


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